


Easy Laughter

by bippedya



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Drunk Michael, First Meetings, Fluff, Gay Bar, M/M, Mentions of STDs, a lot of banter, club, mention of past alcoholism, michael has a thing for blue eyes and great laughs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 10:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15362151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bippedya/pseuds/bippedya
Summary: Michael wants to get drunk and reject people in funny ways, then this motherfucker shows up with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid, amazing laughter.





	Easy Laughter

The alcohol burned in his throat, settling unpleasantly in his stomach briefly before the familiar, pleasant warmth spread through his body. Shitty 2000s pop pulsed through the club, lyrics made indiscernible by the constant chatter of its patrons. 

Michael didn’t really want to be here. He should’ve suspected that the night would turn out like this; he wasn’t a fucking club person. Gavin had stayed around him for  _ maybe _ twenty minutes before fucking off with some tall guy who was entranced with his accent. Michael smirked to himself. Maybe his friend would get laid before the other guy figured out he was a huge moron. He took another swig from his glass, wrinkling his nose a bit at the taste. So, instead of being a normal human being and finding someone else to chat with, Michael opted to stay at the bar for an hour and get as wasted as possible, as quickly as possible. Which, of course, he could’ve done in the comfort of his own home, or with Jeremy. God damn it.

Michael felt the presence of a person sidling up near him and prepared to tell them to fuck off, politeness varying based on how they tried to hit him up. He turned his head and his eyes landed on ink sprawled across skin, obscuring most natural color down to the fingers. Michael looked back at the counter, shiny from contact with so many people and riddled with scratches. He waited for the guy to talk. What excuse would he use this time? Taken, waiting on a friend, don’t like tall guys… STDs? Michael resisted the urge to snicker. He’d definitely go for STDs. Michael watched the bartender make her way closer to their edge of the counter, and he waited for the inevitable order of drinks for two, please.

“Uh, Diet Coke, please,” said the man next to him. Michael raised his eyebrows. Huh. Maybe he was just sitting next to some poor designated driver. He snuck a glance to his left, catching a glimpse of dark hair and hooded, steely blue eyes. He pointedly looked away, feeling some disappointment in not being able to use his most recent excuse. What a shame. It would’ve been funny. 

“Dude, it’s okay,” the man said as he popped open his can, laughing and lazily turning his head to face Michael. “I’m not gonna hit on you.”

Michael blinked. “What- huh-”

“I’ve been watching you reject guys for fucking  _ ages _ dude; it was pretty funny. Especially when they thought they could loosen you up by buying you more drinks.” The man chuckled, and Michael found himself staring stupidly before breaking into a grin and laughing a bit too loud, probably from all the alcohol in his system.

“Really? Well, that’s a good thing for you. I was ready to tell you I had fuckin’... gonorrhea, or something,” Michael quipped, watching those blue eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Jesus.” The man eyed him shiftily. “...You don’t actually have gonorrhea, right?”

“Fuck, no!” Michael laughed. “Nothing against people who do. Stay safe, get treatment and shit. There. Not offensive.”

The guy grinned and raised his soda. “I’m Geoff, by the way. Cheers.”

Michael gave him an amused look and clinked his glass against the aluminum, creating a dull, hardly audible  _ tink _ . “Michael. So what are you doing here? Designated driver or something?”

Geoff shrugged. “Kinda. I don’t drink anyway, but I was roped into driving for my buddies. Might blow them off and tell ‘em to get a Lyft or something, though. God knows I don’t wanna be here waiting all night for their sorry asses.”

Michael snorted. “Yeah, speaking of. My friend brought me here then fucked off in like, twenty minutes. Went off to stick his big nose in some guy’s asshole, or something.”

“Hmm,” Geoff hummed. “Big nose like he’s nosy, or he has a huge-ass nose?”

“Both. But mostly the huge-ass nose part,” said Michael, slamming back another shot.

Geoff stared at the lip of his can thoughtfully. “So you’ve been drinking here the whole time? Huh. Kinda reminds me of me.”

“You used to drink?”

Geoff barked out a laugh. “Fucking  _ tell  _ me about it. I’ve yet to meet someone as utterly stupid as I was about drinking. I’ve been sober for over a year, though. Been trying to uh, be a productive human being. While sober.”

Michael cracked a sardonic grin. “Damn, good for you man. Really. I should probably pull back, but… Eh. I’m not that bad all the time. Just sometimes. The rest of the shit I shove in my mouth is fuckin… burgers and Red Bull. ‘Cause I’m a fat piece of shit.”

“You? Fat? Goddamn, turns out most people in the world are malnourished in that case,” Geoff snarked. Michael shook a pointed finger at Geoff, clicking his tongue.

“Hey now, no flattery here, or I might just tell you I have syphilis too,” Michael slurred. His lips were still tugged up into a smile, and he vaguely registered how easy this conversation came to him. It wasn’t like Michael had that much trouble talking to people, but generally it was a bit of a chore unless their humor clicked with his. And boy, did Geoff’s. Not to mention those eyes, a deeper blue than Ryan’s and watching him intently despite the lazy droop of his eyelids. The bastard just  _ had _ to be attractive.

“Yeah, what a sad way to go. ‘Local fucker found dead after sleeping with man with every STD known to man.’ Jeez, that’s a shitty death. And I’ve been close to plenty of shitty deaths before,” said Geoff. 

“Aw, so you’re not gonna flirt with me?” Michael asked, mouth running before his brain caught up to it. “All I said was no flattery, not  _ nothin’. _ ”

A tattooed hand reached out to grab Michael’s glass, and Geoff sniffed it. “Uh, no offense buddy, but you’re wasted. I’m not gonna take advantage of that. How many of these have you had?”

“Dunno,” Michael said. “I’m not a lightweight.”

Geoff rolled his eyes. “Sure. But you’re still  _ very _ drunk.”

Michael propped his head in his hands and made a face at Geoff. “Fuckin’... You see me shitting all over every other guy that comes up to me, and when I say yes to you then  _ you _ turn me down… You fuckin’... whorebitch.” 

There was that loud laughter again, and Michael smiled wide, wanting to close his eyes and just listen to it. It was high pitched and loud, and definitely not pretty, but it was just so damn  _ full _ of joy and Michael wanted to laugh along despite himself.

“Well, shit. I’m not turning you down. What I  _ am _ doing is trying to be a, uh, responsible adult. And not sleep with the drunk guy who pretty clearly didn’t want a hookup tonight.”

Michael studied Geoff’s face, startled at the simple sincerity in his eyes. The voice of reason that Michael prided himself on always maintaining noted that that was the nicest thing Geoff could’ve done. He felt additional heat rise to his cheeks, noticing a tingle of embarrassment despite the liquid courage sloshing in his gut. He rolled his shoulders back, cracked his neck, and smiled again. “Wow. I feel like I’ve got a real gentleman here.”

“I try.”

“Well, Geoffrey… Are you too much of a gentleman to give me your number, at least?”

Geoff snickered. “What do I look like, a fuckin’ Catholic priest? Of course I’m giving you my number.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed! I want to write more micheoff if I know yall are out there...


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